The Clown and His Harley
by Amledo
Summary: Not as peppy as the title sounds, but if you like Harley to be strong then I think I you will like this one-shot. T because of mild violence. Umm yeah, she's tired of Mr. J.


(A/N: Just for fun, and because Dr. Doodle and I are fans of Harley. I don't own the poor girl or she would have kicked the clown's ass to the curb the first time he threw her out of a window. I own nothing of Batman either. Ok here goes (oh and there is a happy ending I promise).)

The Clown and His Harley

She smiled at him, her pale painted face a mask of calm tranquility as his eyes bored into hers, so filled with rage. True the plans had gone to hell, but she hadn't shot them to pieces, and somewhere she was sure he knew that. He wanted to blame her; he wanted to hate her because once again Batman had escaped almost certain death. With trembling fingers clasped around her slender neck he felt himself about to do what he once promised himself never to allow to happen. He was going to kill his Queen of Hearts.

"It's alright y'know, if it helps ya Mista J," she felt the words leave her lips smoothly but they hurt to speak. Temporarily his hands tightened around her throat and she closed her eyes, wanting to remember him slightly better than she saw him in that moment. Crushing pressure made her head feel dizzy, no air could pass her luridly red lips; it almost amused her that he would be so quick to kill her.

But she felt his grip slacken, heard his breath rough and slow and swore she could smell tears. She cracked an eye, hoping against hope that he was done for the night, that she could just hold him and make all of the anger go away. It wasn't so wrong to want that, to just want to see him happy, was it? Even if it meant she had to die, well it was better than him living in misery. His hands left her throat, and she was almost confident that he was going to let her sit up, that he was going to be fine. Instead he tore her hood from her head and removed her mask, glaring at her as though she had been a spy the entire time.

"You know what Harl? I think I'm tired of you. You'd better re-think who you are really working for, sell me out to the Bat again, save him one more time and I don't think I will be able to stop myself," he growled, voice low and devoid of humor. While she knew that it was his paranoia getting the better of him it was still hard to hear, hard to accept. So she slapped him, hard.

"Dammit Mista J., don't make me regret being wit ya. Do ya know what I gave up to be your lil Harley Quinn? Do ya? Everything in this world isn't about you and Bats. If ya listened to me he'd be dead right now and we could be happy, married, have a family even. But no, you constantly undermine yourself and trash your own plans with that pig head 'o yours. Maybe I'm tired of you," she seethed, stressing the last sentence. He punched her in return, much happier when she was silent.

She climbed to her feet once again, her make-up was smeared and her eye stung from a combination of grease paint and his fist, but she had never been surer of what she wanted. Just like Ivy had taught her once, all a girl could really rely on was herself, and she finally understood that. Deftly, as though she had done it a dozen times, she punched him in the face, catching him again and again when he reeled back. It took a few minutes but she knocked him out cold, and she had only earned a few bruises in return.

Kicking him while he was down she huffed and went about packing up her belongings. She had no desire to see the Joker ever again, and she knew something was different, that this time he wasn't going to lure her back. No, she finally understood just how blind she had been, and she wasn't going to have any part of it anymore. She retrieved a cell phone from her purse as she stepped outside of the warehouse, punching in the number for Ivy's apartment the moment she had recalled it.

"Hello Miss Quinzel," a pleasant voice spoke after the second ring. Harleen's face brightened the instant she heard it.

"Hey Ivy, I was wondering if you still had that spare room…"

(Ok, not the best bit of work but I just resent the hold Joker has over the girl. I've pictured her smashing his head so many times I needed to write it. I love the Joker; don't get me wrong, sometimes he deserves to get decked. Review if you like.)


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